


Rogue State

by InkStainsOnMyHands



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Gun Violence, Illegal Activities, M/M, References to Drugs, Ryan is also a BAMF, Shane is a BAMF, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:09:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: “Who are you?” Ryan blurted out, once they had gotten away.The line of Shane’s lips stretched into an amused grin. He chuckled. “I’m still your ol’ pal, Shane. I’ve just been keeping a few secrets."“And what secrets are those, Shane?” Ryan asked, voice wavering under the pressure of his anxiety and irritation.Shane pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. With a small shrug, he explained, “Let’s just say I’ve been watching you for a long time.”Spy!Shane AU.





	Rogue State

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I, in no way, assert that Ryan's family are involved in illegal activities! It's merely a plot device. 
> 
> Anyway, think of this as an introduction to this universe. I am in no way a spy thriller or an action writer, so that's why this isn't a full-fledged fic. However, if anyone wants to take this project on, they are more than welcome to!

Ryan cursed under his breath; of course he and Shane would get robbed after they broke away from the rest of the crew. He put his hands up in a defensive gesture, mirroring Shane.

 

The man with a gun barked a rapid string of, what he could only assume was, Polish. Using context, Ryan attempted to comply with the insinuated command; he reached into his back pocket. 

 

Out of his peripheral, Ryan caught Shane’s single nod. Encouraged, he fished out his wallet and tossed it. The billfold landed between their two muggers. 

 

Then, Shane ducked before twisting his upper body to the side and springing forward. His shoulder barreled into the gunman’s neck, pulling a pained garble from his throat. With a movement as quick as a cobra’s strike, he grasped the fist holding the gun while it's owner stumbled back. Shane pivoted on his heel to aim the weapon on the second mugger; he forced the first to pull the trigger. The sudden, deafening thunderclap that followed swallowed up any other sound.  

 

The ringing between his ears overtook Ryan. He fought against his dizziness to focus on the scene before him, watching intently as the taller man grappled the gun out of the first mugger’s grasp. Ryan recovered just before Shane turned to shoot the assailant in the head. 

 

“What the - !” Ryan didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence. Shane stalked over to the shorter man and clamped his palm over his friend’s mouth before he could vocalize another word. 

 

Ryan had never seen such a fierceness come over his companion’s hazel eyes before. His expression was so tight, it frightened him. For a brief moment, he wondered if he was next, just to keep him quiet. 

 

“If you want to stay alive, you keep your pretty little mouth shut,” Shane hissed. “You mouthing off is just going to attract the attention of some very bad guys, and we don’t want them to find us. Is that understood?”

 

Although he understood very little of the situation, Ryan knew enough to seal his lips. He nodded rapidly.  

 

Shane released Ryan’s face. He patted his cheek gently, and with a smile, murmured, “Good boy.” 

 

Frozen in place by the strangest combination of adrenaline and fear, Ryan helplessly observed Shane striding to the bodies on the ground. He kneeled before the ex-gunman, cocking his head from side to side, examining him. Without breaking his line of sight, he asked, “Have you ever been arrested?” 

 

“N-No,” Ryan answered automatically. 

 

“What about those missing child prevention kits, have you ever been fingerprinted for one of those?” 

 

“No.” Bemusement dripped from the single syllable. 

 

Shane craned his head upward to gaze up at Ryan. To his heart-sinking dismay, the hard stare returned. “No, as in, you know you haven’t? Or, no, as in, you don’t remember?” 

 

“No, as in, I know I haven’t.” 

 

Shane’s features softened. Despite himself, Ryan felt himself relax, at least somewhat, at the smile brightening his friend’s visage. “Excellent. Open that dumpster over there for me.” 

 

Ryan tossed his head over his shoulder to find that a dumpster was, indeed, situated in the corner of the alleyway. He made his way over to the large trash receptacle and opened it. The putrid stench within was just enough to block out the acrid copper that had filled his nose. 

 

“Okay, now come back here and help me carry this dude.” 

 

Ryan felt his stomach lurch. 

 

* * *

 

The car chase had Ryan trembling. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Shane’s driving skills left the two of them, and their rental car, relatively unscathed. As his heart and lungs calmed, Ryan’s mind replayed the twists, turns and maneuvers Shane executed to simultaneously avoid traffic and gunfire. This, all while his face remained relatively stoic. 

 

How? How was this possible? 

 

“Who are you?” Ryan blurted out, once they had gotten away. 

 

The line of Shane’s lips stretched into an amused grin. He chuckled. “I’m still your ol’ pal, Shane. I’ve just been keeping a few secrets.” 

 

“And what secrets are those, Shane?” Ryan asked, voice wavering under the pressure of his anxiety and irritation. 

 

Shane pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. With a small shrug, he explained, “Let’s just say I’ve been watching you for a long time.” 

 

That answered nothing! “What? Watching me? Why?” 

 

A sigh escaped Shane’s nostrils. He peared at Ryan for a moment, then shifted his gaze back onto the empty stretch of road. “Did you ever wonder how the USSR was able to get hard cash into the union when they were so closed off from the rest of the world?” he asked, casual in manner.

 

Ryan felt his back teeth grind and his brow rise. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

 

“Drugs. And that underground network of purchasing and selling didn't just go away when communism fell. It's still very prevalent, just highly controlled by the Russian government - off the books, of course. They employ people like me to make sure the fat cats upstairs get their cut.” 

 

Ryan balked; he had known Shane for years. What he said couldn't possibly be true, could it? Even if it was, it did little to explain why the man had been tailing him, so to speak, and thus putting him in danger. “Okay, so, if I'm following you, you're some weird Russian spy. That doesn't explain why you were ‘watching’ me.” 

 

“Polish -” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I'm not Russian, I'm Polish - people forget that Poland was Soviet controlled until the late eighties,” Shane corrected. “Also, I'm technically not just a spy. The proper term would be a ‘sparrow’.” 

 

Ryan rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and the thumb. It did not have the desire effect. “Okay,” he growled before facing Shane once more. “What the hell is a sparrow?” 

 

Shane turned his cheek slightly. The smoldering glance suddenly thrown Ryan's way enthralled him, magnetizing him. Without will to, he distinctly noticed the way Shane gently bit his lip. A spontaneous bashfulness warmed him, but before it could pull his attention away, Shane inclined his chin. The almost insignificant action exposed more of his throat, which created a perfect line down his rising-and-falling chest, over his trembling tummy, and to the hand settled over his parted thighs. Ryan’s mouth dried. 

 

As quickly as the tantalizing display began, it ended with Shane snorting, “That gets you everytime.” 

 

Dazed, Ryan released an unintelligent, “Wha?” before the realization hit him; Shane had just demonstrated his occupation. 

 

“Whoa, wait, hold on - you're a honeypot?” 

 

Shane shrugged a shoulder. “Not exactly. Honeypots are one-night distractions. I'm - not. I've been recruited for the long haul, either as a long-term affair or husband.” 

 

Ryan shook his throbbing head. It was as if his mind were filled to the brim and about to tip over. Nothing made sense. No two thoughts connected correctly. Something was missing. “But, why? Why me? Why you?” 

“Well, me, because I'm your type: intelligent, well-spoken, tall, handsome, but not more handsome than you, because your fragile ego obviously couldn’t handle it.” 

 

“How did you -”

 

Shane chuckled, “Just because myspace stops being a thing doesn't mean all of your illicit high school messages go away. Nice ending things with your boyfriend over MSN messenger, by the way, real classy - and right before he was going to give you this cute little promise ring during Senior Night.” 

 

Ryan cringed. “Oh God, please stop talking about that, just tell me -” 

 

“Why you?” Shane supplied. “Ever think it was weird that your dad could afford to live in one of the wealthiest counties in Southern California, with only two or three patients a month.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“You're the next in line to take up one of the biggest hidden drug cartels in the world, and I was assigned to make sure my organization’s interests were seen to.” 

 

* * *

 

The safe house was a modest cottage on the outskirts of Warsaw, though Ryan had no complaints of its size. The small space contained all of the amenities he needed; Shane, a shower, and a warm bed. 

 

Shane exited the ensuite; a plume of steam followed as if it were a cape. He padded into the room, running a towel through his soaked locks. “There's plenty of hot water if you want to -” 

 

“You never told me why those guys were chasing us,” Ryan interrupted. 

 

The question had lingered in the back of his mind, but he had been far too mentally exhausted to process any more information. After sitting down and sifting through the events of the past day, he needed more answers than Shane's explanations provided. 

 

“You didn't ask,” the taller man quipped. 

 

“I'm asking now.” 

 

Shane made the four steps to the bed. The mattress dipped where he sat next to Ryan. “They're part of my organization - ex-organization, actually. After I defied their orders, they put a burn notice out on me. I was safe in the States, protected by the attention  _ Unsolved _ put on me, but now that I’m here, it's easy to make my murder look like a mugging or robbery. It’d be simple to find some poor scapegoat to take the blame.” 

 

Ryan quirked an eyebrow. “Why did you defy your orders? Am I really that unattractive that you'd rather defect than have sex with me?” Though the last question was punctuated with a chuckle, the thought stung. 

 

The corners of Shane’s mouth crinkled into the softest smile. (It sent a flurry of tingles down to Ryan's stomach.) “The opposite. When I got to know you, when I got to fall for you, I realized I couldn't be in a relationship under those false pretenses. I made my intentions clear, which did not make my superiors happy, if you couldn't tell.” 

 

Ryan's heart soared into his throat while his stomach dropped like a heavy stone. Exhilaration, like an electric current, ran underneath his skin. Every fiber of his being urged him forward, to take what he had wanted for so, so long. 

 

“Anyway we could make it work now that the truth is out?” Ryan murmured. 

 

Without a second’s hesitation, Shane leaned forward and captured Ryan's lips in a molten kiss.  

* * *

 

Ryan's mind raced. His entire world fell off its axis in the strangest of ways. Even for someone such as he, suspending his disbelief enough to fathom that he was the crowned prince of a notorious drug cartel while his partner was an ex-Soviet Operative had been difficult. Yet, there they were; no longer just co-hosts of a YouTube channel, but fugitives on the run. 

 

It was amazing. 

 

Who knew that by the end of the day, Ryan would have been pressed up against a shower wall, with his best friend’s cock sheathed  _ so fucking good _ inside him, making the kind of life-affirming love that only came with nearly being a target of a spy hunt? 

 

There was no other feeling in the world like it. 

 

“God, Ryan,” Shane moaned against his shoulder. “I've wanted this for so fucking long.” 

 

Ryan nodded frantically. The arms wrapped around Shane's neck tightened their hold. “Me too,” he gasped out. “Me too, me too.” 

 

As if he had been drowning, Shane brought his head up from his lover’s skin and inhaled. After several  _ hard _ thrusts, the ghost of his grunts fell on the sensitive shell of Ryan's ear. He shivered. 

 

“Thought they trained feelings out of me,” Shane moaned, each syllable accompanied by a slap of wet skin. “But, I feel you, all of you, feel so much for you I can hardly stand it.”

 

The words sent a crackling fire down Ryan’s spine. It ignited the lust that had already pooled in his lower belly. The resulting fire spread through his veins and threatened to consume him. The dam bowed. 

 

“Shane,” Ryan choked out. He was close, so very close. “I'm gonna, oh Shane -” 

 

“Yeah, that’s it baby, I'm coming too,” Shane groaned. 

 

Shane’s hips stuttered. Ryan tightened around his cock. They roared together. 

 

* * *

 

The couple awoke with the barrels of two AK-47s aimed at their faces. 

 

“Get up,” a blond, weathered man, dressed in an overcoat, demanded. He did not carry a weapon, but the iciness of his slightly accented voice had a finality to it that was somehow more threatening than the rifles. 

 

They sprung up, nearly in unison. However, Shane seemingly did not comply with the stranger’s request quickly enough. He was dragged by the collar of his Buzzfeed T-shirt and toppled onto the floor. “On your knees, dog.”

 

“Shane,” Ryan cried out, but the man interrupted his tirade with a raised forefinger. 

 

“You stay right there, boy,” the stranger commanded. Ryan had no qualms with the instruction; his hand slithered underneath his pillow to grasp cold metal. 

 

While Shane situated himself on his knees, hands over his head, the man spoke in a language Ryan was unfamiliar with. His partner, however, barked back in the same language. (Russian? He couldn't be sure.)

 

Then, Shane spat at the man; the wad of saliva landed on the stranger's cheek. 

 

“Шлюха проклятая!” the blond all but screeched. He raised his hand up, palm inward, and fingers extended. 

 

Hell no! Ryan leaped; his hand enclosed around the man’s tie, pulling it down so that Ryan could press the nose of his gun against his adam’s apple. The stranger choked while the shorter man sneered. 

 

“I’m pissed and just shy of insane, so you do anything to hurt Shane, your brains are going to be plastered all over that wall, do you hear me?” Ryan hissed. 

 

The stranger’s subsequent sigh almost sounded exasperated. “This does not concern you, boy. We are already making arrangements to replace your whore - one that’s less mouthy than that one.” 

 

Ryan’s vision turned red. Rage, a kind he had never experienced before, burned every corner of his body. He cocked the gun with his thumb. “You have a death wish, don't you?” Ryan snarled. 

 

Suddenly, a shouting came from the door. The blond responded to it in kind. An exchange went back and forth for several moments until the two soldiers holding their rifles dropped their aim and filed out of the room. 

 

The stranger howled, “Let go of me!” 

 

Reluctantly, Ryan released him. 

 

“You're free to go,” he explained beneath his rapid breath. He straightened his overcoat and adjusted his mussed hair. 

 

“What? Why?” Ryan questioned harshly, but the stranger had already turned his back and left the room. 

 

Shane stood. His smirk was so sharp it could have been lethal. “Because daddy dearest apparently gave them some information more valuable than what I had. He’s willing to blackmail himself to erase the burn notice.” 

* * *

 

The Bergara private jet, stationed within the nearby hangar, was something of a marvel. Ryan admired the sleek design, gold trim, and pristine paint so much he hardly registered that his father stood outside the open door. But, when he finally realized what his eyes had landed on, it was all he could do not to fall to the ground with relief. 

 

Ryan’s feet took off without thought. As though he were a small child again, he ran straight into his father’s open arms. A laughter ensued between them, which finally broke the tension that had claimed every single one of Ryan’s muscles. It left him boneless once he pulled away from the embrace. 

 

“You too,” the head of the Bergara clan chuckled while waving Shane over. The two shared a quick, affectionate hug before Ryan’s father pulled away. With his hands still on Shane's shoulders, he proclaimed, “Welcome to the Bergara Cartel. You’re now hired as my son’s bodyguard for life.” 

 

Without missing a single beat, Shane warmly replied, “Nice to make the title official, finally.” 

 

The trio roared with laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments validate my existence.


End file.
